Legends
by EmiliShadow
Summary: When Daryl is caught offguard while hunting in the woods he is saved by a very unlikely hero... Light Caryl fic. Nothing to dramatic. Rated T for language/some racism hello it's daryl... and some light sexuality in later chapters Enjoy! 1st TWD fic.
1. Chupacabra

Daryl Dixon was a solitary man. He hunted alone. He ate alone. He slept alone. He kept to himself, only confiding in others when it was absolutely necessary. That's how it had always been and that was how it would always be... at least in his eyes.

The day had started like any other. Daryl rose before the sun and got to work prepping supplies for a hunt. He scrounged up some of the deer meat from the night before and as the first rays of light peeked over the horizon and cast a golden glow across the camp, he was off into the woods—his bow slung over his back and a length of rope dangling over his shoulders. _He was gonna catch him some boar dammnit! Sick an' tired of squirrel_.

He had been hunting for a couple hours when he finally caught sight of the hog. He had been tracking it for a couple days but this was the first time he had lay eyes on it. It was big, a couple hundred pounds at least. It was a sow and her bristled coat was thick with mud and flies.

Swiftly he drew his bow, locking the bolt into place. He knelt in the brush and everything was quiet. The cool morning breeze chilled the sweat on the back of his neck as Daryl trained the weapon on the beast who was grazing obliviously. His index finger tickled the trigger and just as he flexed to free to bolt he heard fast, short footfalls. Before the man could swing around to see the assailant it was too late.

He was dealt a blow, hard in the ribs crushing the bones and throwing him up and over his bow, sending the bolt spewing out of range. Breath racked out of his lungs as he looked up dazedly to see a blur of brown hurtling towards him.

Daryl tensed up preparing helplessly for the next strike, his hands reached for his buck knife. Then he froze in place as the charging boar—its tusked snout lowered ready to gore him again—was intercepted by a snarling black creature, its teeth gnashing and its eyes fierce. A terrified chill ran down the battered man's spine before pain and shock forced him unconscious... _Chupacabra._


	2. A different kind of saviour

He comes to with the sun beating against his face mercilessly. How long had he been unconscious? _It must be midday by now... _Suddenly the realisation of what had transpired came back to him and he jumped to his feet, reaching out blindly for his bow. He loaded it swiftly, swinging it up painfully to scour his surroundings for bloodthirsty demons... and walkers too.

He froze when he caught sight of a massive male boar laying motionless not 10 feet from where he stood. Its neck had been torn open and its blood soaked the forest floor where it had fallen. Daryl gulped remembering the tales of the "Goat-sucking beasts" that ripped the throats out of livestock drinking their blood yet leaving the flesh untouched.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a black mass and with a short, pained breath, turned the bow towards it ready to fire. He paused when he caught sight of his alleged "Chupacabra".

There at the edge of the clearing lay a dog. It panted heavily and its tongue lolled out goofily to the side. His movement must have alerted it. The dog's ears were perked towards him and his tail wagged haphazardly. Daryl scoffed at himself. _Damn thing was probably just some stray from the city. _He lowered the bow.

It was a black pit bull—as far as he could tell under all the grime and dirt at least. The dog watched him from where he lay in the shade of a grove of trees, looking every once in a while from Daryl to the boar. Eventually, the dog rose to sit on its haunches and began to whine.

"What'd ya want?" the hunter snarled, annoyed at his foolish assumption and the pain emanating from his likely broken ribs.

The dog got up and trotted up to Daryl causing him to jump back hesitantly. Back when he was a kid Merle had taken him to a dog fight and forced him to watch as the dogs tore into each other. That's all he really knew of this type of dog. But this Pit just nudged his leg and looked at him expectantly.

He looked at the boar than the dog, as much as he hated to admit it to himself this boar could have killed him if the dog hadn't gotten to him. He thought the sow was big, _this bastard had a hundred-fifty pounds on her easy_. He ran his hand over his ribs wincing when he felt them give way, but no blood. Those tusks could have easily gored him. More than that, he was lucky that no walkers had come upon him while he lay helpless.

"Good dog" he spoke hesitantly. The dog just sat at his feet proudly and he took the chance to look up at the sky noting that the sun would be making its descent soon.

He lifted the rope from where it had fallen on the forest floor and stepped towards the boar slowly examining the carcass. _Might well make use of it._ He held his knife in one hand just in case the dog suddenly became interested as he began to bind the boar's legs to make it easier to drag back to camp.

When he was finished he stood slowly. The dog hadn't moved from where it lay. But as Daryl coiled the rope around his good shoulder and began to drag the game—ignoring the sharp stabs in his side and the dull throbbing of his head—the dog suddenly sprang up and ran to his side. Muscles rippling, the stray took hold of the length of rope binding the front and back legs and began to pull alongside the wounded man, dragging it somewhat with ease despite its size.

"Get outta here! Leave it be!" Daryl snarled and the dog stopped, the rope still held firmly within its jaws, he eyed Daryl obediently "Go 'way!"

The dog dropped the rope, stepped back and just stood silently, its tail still wagging. Daryl—fed up with the chaos and just wanting to get back to camp swung the rope over his shoulder, once more pushing the stab of his ribs aside and swiftly dragging the boar back to camp. He would have an interesting time explaining this one...


	3. Daryl Dixon:Dog Whisperer

Daryl made it back to camp just before the sun reached the tree line. He was winded and his battered ribs hurt something awful yet he continued to drag the hog towards the distant campfire. Halfway across the clearing he glanced back, hoping that the boar-baiting mutt had scampered back to wherever it came from, but to no avail. There, trailing him by thirty feet or so was the dog.

"Get outta here!" he growled as a last, futile attempt to drive it away before sighing exasperatedly as the dog slowed but continued to follow "damn excuse of a dog... I should string you up

and..."

"Daryl?" a worried voice interrupted his threats towards the unwanted follower. He spun around sharply wincing and grabbing at his ribs. There stood Carol a mixture of worry and exhaustion painted over her delicate features. "Are you, alright?" her fingers fiddled with a loose hem on her shirt.

"I'm just fine!" the man grunted throwing the rope off his shoulder and readjusting the strap of his crossbow.

"Yeah... you certainly look it..." Carol spoke sceptically raising an eyebrow as she looked him over. Noticing the tear in his shirt she stepped forward before he could move away and pulled the tattered material away. She gasped at the sight of the badly bruised skin and laid her hand lightly over it. He bit back an expletive at the combination of pain and sparks her touch sent through him, choosing to brush her hand away instead.

"I'm okay! Jus' a busted up rib or two" He didn't stand there long enough for Carol to argue with him, he grabbed the rope and began to drag the carcass past her when he heard her shriek. His heart jumped in his throat and he whirled around, crossbow at the ready and was met with the short haired woman clutching her chest frozen in fear.

Walker was his first thought but when he followed her sight line he saw that she was staring fearfully at the black pit bull. He considered shooting it right there, but thought better of it just as Rick and Glenn running up to them. They must have heard Carol.

"Whats going..." Rick began but trailed off as he saw the dog that had now lost interest in Carol and was looking curiously at some insect flittering about. Rick looked at the kill noticing the bite marks and then looked at Daryl. Soon all three were staring at him.

"Daryl, why do you have a dog?" Glenn asked scratching the back of his neck nervously asking the obvious question they were all thinking.

"It aint mine!" Daryl scoffed "Damn thing just followed me back" he explained then noticed Carol still frozen in place. "Relax, the thing won't hurt ya, he killed this boar here, before I could, it tried to gore me..." Carol looked up at him and then to the boar. She relaxed a bit but still tensely eyed the Pit Bull where it now lay thirty feet away.

"Can't you just tell it to leave?" Daryl chuckled cynically at Glenn's question. _Like I hadn't thought of that you damn stupid asian, thought asians were s'posed to be the brains_.

"Go ahead then china man...have at it" Daryl gestured towards the dog and Glenn frowned at the racist insults he had become accustomed to.

Daryl took the chance to grab the rope and give a hard tug at the bound pig to get it moving again. His ribs protested vehemently and he spat out a curse as white hot pain shot reverberated through his torso. He bent over seeing double and Carol was at his side immediately.

"We gotta get you patched up..." Daryl didn't protest this time shoving the rope into Glenn's hands as he staggered, guided by Carol towards the camp.

"What do you want me to do with the dog?" Rick spoke just loud enough to be heard by the retreating form of the tracker.

"What do I look like? A dog whisperer?" Daryl turned momentarily to throw a glance at Rick and then the dog who was just lazing in the grass. He wouldn't admit it yet but he felt kind of obligated to this animal, he hated to admit it but this drooling, mud caked pup had saved his life... with a sigh he shrugged Carol's arm from his waist gently and sighed. _I can't believe that I'm doing this... _With a wave of his hand he called out"Come 'ere dog!"


	4. Binding

Carol worked fastidiously binding Daryl's ribs. Her hands gently rubbing the sensitive skin of his sides occasionally as she fastened the tensor bandage. Daryl once again tried to ignore the tingling sensations running up his spine. He took in a deep breath trying to get hold of himself and Carol's hands froze. _Get yourself together the woman's binding ribs not romancing you..._

"Did I hurt you?" she glanced up at his face concerned, and he could feel a blush dance across his skin. _Damn fool..._

"I'm fine; your hands are just damn cold woman, where do you keep em? an Icebox?" he laced his lie in sarcasm and Carol blushed slightly mumbling an apology and drawing her hands to her lap self-consciously. Immediately regretting embarrassing her, he reached out placing his hand over her smaller ones allowing the fluttering of his stomach to subside before gently adding "Thank you... for fixin me up I mean, most people wouldn't bother..."

She looked up at him slowly and a soft smile graced her lips, she thought about disagreeing with the statement but was cut off from her train of thought with the sound of the tent flap unzipping.

Daryl pulled his hand away slowly as Glenn entered the tent followed closely by Maggie. If either had seen the slight blush on the hunter's cheeks or noticed the tension as Carol quickly made her leave averting her eyes, they chose not to mention it.

"Look Daryl... um... you see..." Glenn stammered, he learned very quickly upon joining the group two things about Daryl; don't touch his things, and don't make him angry. The first and second may seem to be somewhat the same but after a fated incident in which he picked up Daryl's crossbow in curiosity, he knew by the response that it was an offense in a whole other category. "Rick... he uh...Lori... man..."

"Rick wants you to do something about the dog" Maggie cut in, seeing no immediate end to the nervous stammering of Glenn as he tried to find the words that would least cause him bodily harm. Daryl admired the no-bullshit approach of the farm girl; _how the awkward as hell pizza boy landed a hard ass girl like her he would never know_. "Lori's on his balls about it"

Through the opening of the door he could see Rick standing defensively, hands held up while Lori lay into him; her hands jutting wildly at their tent where Carl sat frowning with a _'you never let me have any fun'_ expression at his mother.

"_It's a danger to us all rick! It's gonna eat my babyyyyy_" Daryl painfully coughed out a chuckle at Maggie's impersonation of the brunette. She too had turned to watch the couple argue in hushed tones. "I really don't see any harm; it's just lying over by the trees...might as well be a stump"

Sure enough when Daryl got up and gingerly made his way out of the tent, the black dog was lying in the tree shaded clearing behind his tent where he cleaned his kills. Somebody had already moved the boar there and strung it up to drain. _Pro'bly Maggie or Andrea...considering the argument currently ensuing it sure wa'nt Rick..._

He turned his attention back to the camp center as he heard footsteps. Lori was stalking furiously off towards the house brushing rudely past Carol who was returning with a pile of fresh clothes for him. She looked up worriedly. He spotted Rick standing dejectedly, unsure for a moment whether to follow her like a beaten pup or leave her be to vent her anger alone.

He chose the more sensible option turning distractedly before laying eyes on Daryl. He approached him tentatively before gesturing slowly to the dog.

"Look Daryl," He thought about laying a hand on Daryl's bare shoulder but pulled his hand back before it made contact... "Lori doesn't want the dog hanging around camp, she doesn't feel safe. she's worried about Carl..." he turned making eye contact with his son who—upon mention of his name—made a exaggerated grunt, glared, then turned away crossing his arms angrily.

Rick caught Daryl's vaguely curious glance and sighed "Lori caught him trying to pet the dog, dragged him away... Carl had always wanted a dog ... was going to get him one too before I got shot..." he reminisced trailing off as he watched his son, hints of a smile hiding behind his now sombre face. "So... what should I do about it?" Rick finally asked.

"I'll take care of it..."Rick nodded thoughtfully, understanding. As much as he owed this mutt for saving him—intentionally or not... it wasn't worth tearing the already splitting camp further apart. He walked to his tent and grabbed the bow resting on his cot, avoiding a questioning glance from Carol who had been packing up the medical supplies. The weapon was already loaded, and one arrow was all he needed... it would be humane at the very least...

****Authors note: Thank you Roses in May and deelove1 for the kind reviews! I really appreciate it! Random note in case you are wondering... the dog was inspired by a pit bull my friend just rescued from a kill shelter in New York, who came with the name "Norman" Ironically considering both her and my love for TWD. We even started jokingly calling him "REEEDUS!" **


	5. Solutions

Daryl stared into the dog's eyes with sadness. He was hoping that the dog would run off at the sight of the man drawing his bow but instead the Pit Bull rose to his feet and walked towards him, sitting a few feet ahead of him, amber eyes following his squinting blue ones. _Why can't you just run off! Be a pussy! Save yourself!_ The dog continued to stare directly at him until it felt it was looking into his soul itself. Daryl felt an attachment to this dog but he knew that Lori could be right.

_It's barking could draw walkers, It could be a liability_. He had never heard the dog bark and it didn't seem likely, but the excuse was enough to convince his hesitating brain to lift the weapon in his hands.

Staring down the scope of his crossbow, bolt at the ready; the man's eyes felt heavy, unable to keep eye contact with the dog that so willingly waited for its death. Its face was calm, almost stoic but as an afterthought it wagged its tail—just the tip—gently against the grass.

Daryl shook his head trying desperately to clear it out. _It's jus' some damn dog! Get it together Dixon!_ He raised the weapon once more, his hands shook uncontrollably and he took a breath into his lungs holding it there. His finger found the trigger. _I'm sorry..._

But just as his finger began to tighten, he heard a gasp from behind him. He held his fire, finger sliding off the trigger. He lowered the bow slowly his eyes staring ahead of him. It was only then that he felt the wetness on his cheeks and remembered he was holding his breath.

He didn't have to turn around to know that Carol had been watching the whole thing from the tent line. And as he let out his breath, a few racking sobs came with it. Before he could comprehend what was happening he was crying.

Carol watched as Daryl's bow slowly was dropped to rest by his feet and the hunters shoulders began to shake. His whole body trembled with silent sobs and without second thoughts or worrying about Daryl's manliness or the dog who continued to sit by his feet, Carol went to him placing her hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin on her fingertips.

In that moment to her, he wasn't Daryl Dixon, a course mouthed, tough as nails crossbow wielding redneck; he was just a broken man and she was just the woman that could make it better. She rested her forehead against his shoulder and listened as he tried to fight away the silent sobs.

Daryl felt her hand upon him and he made a futile attempt to wipe the tears from his eyes in one swift rub of a balled fist. He chuckled to himself cynically.

"Guess I'm gonna have to come up with 'nother solution then..." Carol looked up at him from over his shoulder and a half-smile tugged at her lips.

"You'll think of something..." and with that her hand slid from his shoulder and down to grasp his hand lightly guiding him away from the clearing and toward his tent. "C'mon"

With that the dog went back to lying beneath the trees and the camp fell silent. At least for the moment that is.

****Authors note: WOW! Thanks for all the reviews! Roses in May, deelove1, Jaded79, kdoggt, hopelesslydevotedtosvu (f*in clever username too might I add...) abovetherim and Luuh Reedus. Now don't hate Lori too much... you'll bust a vein... I WOULD make her nice but considering I'm trying to stay authentic... XD on a separate note, I think my Dalmatian puppy Harpo is slightly offended that I'm not writing about him... he is watching me mournfully from his blanket as I post this...**


	6. No room for worry

Carol's hand didn't leave his even as they entered his tent. Neither knew quite what to say as they sat side by side, fingers laced gently. They were silent for a moment. The only sound to be heard was the soft rustle of the wind brushing the tent.

Daryl focused on his breathing his mind bogged down by emotion and the sense of self loathing that always came with it. He lowered his head and sighed feeling Carol's hand squeeze his briefly, brushing her thumb over his lightly. He glanced down at their hands noticing that even their hands reflected how different they were.

Her hands were soft, gentle, her thin fingers were delicate and long yet bravely wound through his. Dirt clung into the lines of his hands, filth that no matter how many washes would still remain, and there was a roughness of calluses that thickened the skin of his palms. Despite their differences, somehow they found each other somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. He gave her strength, and with her his cold heart warmed just a little bit.

Daryl watched from the corner of his eye as she turned towards her attention towards him opening her mouth to speak but closing it thinking otherwise. Disheartened, she began to look away again, her fingers loosening from his as she watched hesitantly. He sensed her pulling away and looked up, placing his other hand tenderly over their joined ones; holding them there.

Her eyes met his and he saw the muted shine of tears clinging to her eyelashes threatening to spill down the smooth planes that were her cheeks. _Damn woman why do you do this to me..._

He felt the wet warmth in his eyes again and he blinked the tears back lifting his hand to the woman's cheek as a single tear fell, cascading slowly from her eyes. He brushed it away, his thumb barely grazing her skin yet she shuddered something awful. He didn't know why she was crying or why he was tearing up but for the moment, the look in her eyes as she watched him was all he could see.

Carol felt her skin warm at his touch and she blinked, closing her eyes momentarily only to open them to the sight of Daryl's eyes looming over hers. He had shifted closer when he reached out to her and now she could feel his breath in the hollow of her neck.

His breath was coming out in soft, sharp puffs causing her to suddenly remember his damaged ribs. She pulled away slightly making an effort to peer down at his bandaged ribs, worry beginning to ebb at the back of her mind.

But as her eyes swept down his neck to his torso, the man's hand lightly caught her chin. And just as she was about to voice her concern and tell him to rest or take some meds or something he lowered his head to brush his lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered closed once more.

It was a simple kiss, their lips touching for a fraction of a second but the contact was dizzying. They pulled apart a fraction of an inch, and the hunter's forehead rested upon hers. Carol's hand had drifted over to his shoulder and the weight of it kept him grounded, just breathing lightly against her lips.

She watched him from under her eyelashes and she felt a grin stretch across her lips. When Daryl opened his eyes he was met with the most beautiful of sights. Carol was smiling, wider than he's seen since that day on the highway, _hell, even before that. _

Her eyes were half open, eyelashes leaving feathery shadows over her green eyes. The tears were gone, the paths they had travelled, the only clue that they had been there at all. He felt his lips purse into a smile of his own as she looked up at him.

"_Carol...I..._" his voice was barely a whisper against her lips and she smiled up at him. He tried in that moment to find the words, the right ones to say in a moment like this...his search for the perfect words was interrupted by the gentle press of lips against his.

"_Daryl?"_ she spoke his name against his lips softly, he grunted questioningly in response and she smiled, pushing him away slightly with her hand resting on his collarbone, "Shut up..." with that said, she replaced her lips on Daryl's, and any worries that had plagued them began to fall away.

****Authors note: so a little birdie told me it was someone's birthday today so happy birthday ****Luuh Reedus****! And thanks to everybody who reviewed. To those wondering: I will knock Lori down a peg in the next chapter, don't you worry... This is hopefully not too fluffy... **


	7. Scavenger

Daryl awoke to the sudden sound of dishes clinking. His eyes opened slowly as the zipper to his tent door was pulled and a familiar figure entered, hands clasping a plate piled with what looked meat and vegetables. It was hard to see in the dark but as the steam rose off the food—ghosting into the cool evening air blowing through the open flap—and the smell wafted over to him, his stomach was reminded that he had not eaten that day.

Reaching over himself he stiffly turned on the lantern on the table beside his cot. The room was cast in a warm glow and the light illuminated Carol's face. Her face lifted into an encouraging smile as she handed the plate to him.

"I thought you might be hungry" she looked away before adding "Glenn and T Dog cleaned the boar and I helped them with the cooking" there was a hint of shyness in her voice and she was once again fiddling with the hem of her shirt. It was then that Daryl spotted the pail lying at her feet.

"S' that?" He gestured at the pail and she looked down at the half-full tin for a moment before responding.

"I thought the dog might be hungry..." she looked towards the back of the tent where, just beyond it, she knew the dog still lay. He hadn't left the spot since he was shown mercy by the hands of Daryl. "I scrounged up some of the scraps and snuck them away before..." She trailed off but he understood.

He knew that she meant to finish her with '_the dumbass overbearing bitch named Lori saw that she was giving THEIR food to the dangerous dog,'_ But he knew that she was much too kind and didn't wish to drive a wedge.

He couldn't help but smile slightlyat her thoughtfulness towards the strange dog. He motioned for her to sit by him. She complied and took a seat on the cot beside him, her hands resting on her lap.

"You eaten?" he asked as he stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. He was famished but he felt the need to make sure she had eaten before feeding himself. She looked up at him and shook her head. He paused looking at the woman beside him; she was thin, too thin. Losing Sophia had put a lot of strain on the older woman.

"I thought I'd get you something first, I'm not really hungry" she had noticed his lingering, concerned stare and she sighed "I'm fine, you eat" _So the woman was feedin' him, and also givin food ta some stray above eatin' for herself? The hell if Daryl would allow that! _He placed his now chilling food on the table and stood slowly making his way out of his tent and towards the campfire, despite Carol repeatedly telling him she was 'just fine'.

He ignored as the rest of the group watched him with confused glances. Only offering a grunt and a shrug when Rick made an effort to ask how he was.

He returned hurriedly with a plate of food for her, but when he pulled open the flap to the tent she was gone. He was worried at first until he noticed the missing pail on the floor. _Figures..._ Placing the plate down next to his on the table, he turned on his heel and exited the tent.

It was dark but he could just make out her figure seated on a tree stump watching the moon. It was quiet; the silence only disturbed by the crackle of the distant campfire and the hushed talking of those sitting around it.

He approached silently and Carol jumped when he spoke her name. Her hand flew to her chest in fright and he apologised, his voice a whisper against the sound of crickets chirping in the tall grass. The dog ate nearby, occasionally looking towards the two of them before turning hungrily back towards the well deserved meal.

"I wonder if he had a family before all this..." Carol's voice was tired as she watched the black dog. He was underweight and his ribs and hipbones showed.

"I dunno... maybe I guess "Daryl hadn't thought of it that way. When he saw the dogs running stray in Atlanta—eating just about anything they could find, including fallen walkers—he didn't stop to think that maybe they were once somebody's pet. He saw them in their simplest forms... scavengers.

"I think he did have a family." Carol spoke again, unsure but confident "maybe a couple kids in a home with a nice fenced backyard..." she mused. Daryl had taken a seat next to her and her shoulder touched against his as she spoke. She wondered what the dog's name was...

Ed had never allowed them to have pets. Said they were dirty, another mouth to feed. Even when Sophia turned seven and in her prayers every night, quietly asked the lord for a puppy dog, _maybe if we had a dog like the neighbours we would be a normal family._ She would whisper quiet so her father couldn't hear but years of being a mother had honed her hearing.

Tears swelled in her eyes at the memory, the hole in her heart ached. A hole that was carved out the moment that _thing_ emerged from the barn—wearing Sophia's clothes, but not her soul, that was long gone.

Daryl watched as the moonlight shone over her tear streaked face. The wind was cold, she shivered, and without a second thought he wrapped his arm around her, pressing his lips to her forehead as she leaned into his embrace.

The dog had finished eating and walked to them slowly, sitting relaxed at Carol's feet. There was no fear as Carol reached out towards the dog, her fingers stroking its head. They sat in the moonlight for a while longer until the hunger got to them and they made their way back to the tent.

That night, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

**** Authors Note: Longer one this time... and I know I said I would go after Lori in this one but then had an amazing idea for later on! Thanks again for the reviews! You guys are awesome! **


	8. Connections

Daryl woke at dawn as per usual. What was not usual was the woman wrapped in his arms. Her breath ghosted over his neck and he took comfort in the feeling as the memories from the previous night came to mind.

After they had eaten, exhaustion had finally set in. They had just lain bundled on his makeshift bed until sleep finally laid claim. They entertained no thought of what would happen in the morning, just the comfort and warmth of each other's bodies.

Now, as he lay awake, Carol curled up against his good side he still found himself uncaring of anything other than the woman in his arms. _Hell, Rick, and the whole peanut gallery could waltz right in and it wouldn't make one bit a difference to him. _He smiled down at the sleeping woman and fought the urge to place a soft kiss on her head. _He truly was turning into a sissy._

He sighed, gently lifting Carol's head from his chest and placing it on the pillow; slowly extricating himself from her sleeping form. He had a sudden need to be in the woods. His bow and his thoughts, that's all he needed right now.

He laced his shoes silently and grabbed his weapon. He hoped she would understand his absence upon waking.

The camp was silent as he trod through the dew sodden grass. He could see Dale sitting watch atop the RV and watched as he caught him in the sight of his binoculars. They exchanged a curt nod before Daryl began to venture through the field toward the woods.

Swift movement in the tall grass alerted him and he swung around. His bow lowered when, once again, the black dog fell in his sites.

"Damn Dog!" Its ears perked towards him and now in a clearer mind and better light he noticed the youthfulness of the dog. Its tail wagged exuberantly and its mouth formed an almost human grin. He couldn't help but feel slightly amused at the dog's eagerness to please.

The dog still watched him expectantly and he sighed. _What am I gonna do with myself..._

"Fine, but if ya scare off the game it'll be yer corpse I'll be spittin and roastin" Daryl's threats felt empty even to himself, he had grown fond of the black dog. It was quiet, kept to itself and always strived to prove itself... Daryl could draw connections...

So with that the hunter turned on his heels and continued towards the woods, the pit bull bounding lightly alongside. This would be an interesting hunt.

Carol wasn't surprised when she woke to an empty cot. Daryl was an early riser and by the time her eyes cracked open the glow of the mid morning sun was already illuminating the thin sides of the tent, causing shadows to slant across the floor. His bow was gone and his boots. _He was probably on a hunt by now._

She couldn't help but feel a bit hurt that he hadn't woken her or at least left a note... But Daryl wasn't one to worry about such things. He knew how to survive better than most anybody. He had been doing it most his life.

Pushing it from her mind she stood. The smell of eggs and meat cooking had woken the hunger in her and she slipped her shoes on before exiting the tent.

Everybody save for Rick and Shane sat around the fire. Dale turned sizzling meat in a pan and the smell struck her. _Was that...?_

"Bacon" Glenn answered her unasked question "well as close to bacon as we're gonna get, without a smokehouse at least" Glenn continued to ramble on but Carol was too focused on the food.

Soon a plate landed in her hands and she forced herself to sit and politely cut away at the "boar bacon". She hadn't tasted anything so good in a long time, even if it was more gamey then the packaged stuff. They must have carved up the fatty belly of the pig and rubbed it with what little salt they had. It was a welcome change from squirrel meat. Nobody said it but looking around at each and every face, you could easily tell they thought the same.

When her plate was empty she stood. She had even saved a couple slices for when Daryl came back; he'd likely enjoy it just as much as the rest of them.

Carol's thoughts drifted to the dog in the clearing. She had almost forgotten about him until she saw Lori usher Carl away from the direction of Daryl's tent. She could understand Lori's hesitance to allow her son near the dog, she might have done the same for Sophia. Even now the name stung as she thought it.

But for some reason or another she felt a connection to this dog. She made her way to the grove of trees where he normally lay, only to find the place empty. Either it had run off or maybe Daryl felt a bit of a connection too.

She left the bacon in Daryl's tent and walked the short distance to the stables. Wandering down the aisle past the stalls she came to the tack room. And there—hung on a nail alongside a tattered nylon lead was the collar. She had seen it the other day when she went to retrieve a pitchfork and didn't think much of it but now it had someone to belong to.

It was leather and had the name "Norman" imprinted into its surface. It was stiff but a little saddle soap would fix that. She didn't know why but the name made her smile. _Norman, that's a good name, strong._

She spent the next half an hour working on the collar. It gave her something to do. Sure, she could have been helping the ladies wash the clothes by the stream but she wasn't sure if she wanted to listen to Lori's hormonal banter. Without her little girl she felt no connection with the woman.

A knock startled her from her thoughts. Maggie smiled at her and gestured to the collar that she held along with a sponge of saddle soap.

"Belonged to our old herding dog" Carol blushed, she should have known that it belonged to them, it slipped her mind. She put it down on the bench where she sat and began to apologize.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." Maggie cut her off.

"No. I mean it was so long ago, I was just a kid, and we're not using it or anything" Maggie stepped forward and put it back in Carol's hands "Damn dog was insane anywho! Dad had to put a bullet in its head, rabies or somethin..." Maggie trailed off before sitting down next to the older woman.

"Thanks" Carol turned to the farm girl offering her a grateful smile "I don't know why but I really feel a connection to this dog..." Maggie grinned before replying.

"Seems like it's not the only thing you got a connection to" with a wink and a swat on her arm the two girls were laughing.

That is, until they heard the screams.

**-psycho *knife in the shower* noises- hehe oh cliffhangers! Thanks for all the reviews! Next chapter spoiler: Lori FINALLY learns a valuable lesson... don't be a Mc. Hoe Sandwich with a side of Wench Cries! I'll try to update quickly this time :)


	9. Perceptions

The hunt had gone well. The dog had proved more than useful. It wasn't long before its keen nose led Daryl to the fresh trail of a deer. While following the trail he also managed to catch a dozen squirrels or so and a couple rabbits.

They were close now, tracking the deer down into a slight valley. Judging by the irregular tracks it had an injury to its hind leg, a limp. Daryl hoped silently that it wasn't walker-bit. _I'm not loosing another goddamn deer to one of those undead bastards._

Suddenly the dog was alert.

It had turned to face the east and let out a throaty whine then a single bark. Before Daryl could tell it to shut up it bounded off towards something. _Prob'ly found another boar to chase down. _He scoffed to himself turning back towards the trail. But something didn't sit right with him.

It was then he heard the screaming.

He didn't have to think; he just threw the squirrels off his shoulder and loaded his bow. He ran towards the screaming...and after the dog.

oooo

Lori, Beth and Andrea sat at the stream ringing the men's grimy shirts. Carl sat just out of earshot skipping rocks. Lori's eyes were trained on him like a hawk. She was not letting him out of sight.

So when the first walker ambled out of the woods and straight towards Carl, her scream pierced the air.

Its bony hands reached hunger-blind towards the boy and Carl let out a scream of his own, leaping into the stream and splashing towards the women. The walker kept coming and Lori looked frantically to Andrea.

The gun in the blonde's hands went off throwing the now dead, undead backwards and onto the rocks his brain matter splattering across the stone. Not two seconds after the bullet left the barrel—and the sound echoed against the water and through the trees—inviting any walker in the vicinity—did they realise their mistake.

Four more came, their gaping mouths and rotting hands straining them forward. Lori pushed Carl behind her. The stream was thirty minutes walk, through the woods, even if Rick and the others starting running at the first scream they would be ten minutes at least. Andrea shakily lifted her gun once more.

Beth's eyes were filled with terror as she backed herself against a tree. A breathless groan came behind her and she screamed. They were surrounded. Beth ran in tight to the three others and Andrea pulled the trigger twice more only for her gun to blank.

Suddenly a black streak of fur burst through the brush, teeth bearing and hackles up. It was the dog. Lori felt another jolt of fear, irrationally concluding the dog was after them too, when suddenly it dashed past them lunging and tearing at the walkers limbs.

It was giving them an escape. The realisation hit Lori hard and fast and she didn't question it just grabbed her boy and made a run for it. They got thirty yards when another emerged suddenly from behind an oak.

Its teeth hung on sinewy jaws and its eyes bulged as it leapt forward, throwing Lori off balance and onto the ground. Before it could plunge its teeth into her neck however, the black dog was on it.

The force of the dog's body threw the walker off of her and the rotting-excuse-of-a-man landed heavily on the ground. The dog quickly turned with desperation in its eyes. _Get out of here._

It was then that Lori swung to her feet grabbing Carl's hand. And just as they got up the path Daryl came into the open bolts flying. The three trailing the women were dropped and he drew his knife.

It slid like butter through rotted orifices and brains. He could hear the shouts of Rick and Shane as he finished off another geek. _Who the fuck thought it was a damn good idea to fire a gun. Three fucking times!_

A loud yelp caught his attention and he watched as a walker sunk its teeth into the leg of the Pit. Instinctively he let loose a bolt and the walker fell motionless.

Another walker was on him and he crushed its face in with the blunt end of his bow. The sickening crunch was followed by a thud and looking up he could see the men running towards him. They formed a phalanx armed with shovels, baseball bats and a pickaxe.

When the last Walker was brought down, Daryl allowed himself to take a deep breath. Then with a muted whimper, he remembered the bit dog. He ran towards the felled walker and shoved him off. The dog lay mostly motionless as blood gushed from the wound in its leg. The walker had torn much of the flesh away. The thing was in pain...

Daryl swallowed before pulling the arrow from the walker's eye socket. He loaded the bow once more and stood over the dog.

The golden amber eyes trained on him again and as he looked into them he froze. There was fight in this dog's eyes. He dropped the bow suddenly and tore one of the sleeves from his jacket. He had to act quickly. He held the dog's neck down before tying the fabric tightly above the wound and tightening it with a stick.

_Dogs can't get the fever..._It was this thought that kept him going. _We can save him._

He lifted the dog and sprinted towards camp, leaving Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn in confusion.

As he neared the farm lane he dashed past Carol and Maggie who had heard the commotion, Pit Bull in his arms and blood covering his shirt they quickly chased after him.

"Hershel!"

**** Hehe... so VERY quick update... even I couldn't leave the story there! A little more intense this chapter! Thought I would link a picture of the real life Norman the pit . He's a cutie huh! Still kind of a cliff hanger but hey! Since even I can't stand my OWN cliff hangers I might just have to update faster... **


	10. The Guilt

Hershel had heard gunshots and watched as the men had run off towards the stream. At the sound of his name being shouted, he immediately prepared for the worst.

Running out onto the porch however he was surprised to find Daryl clutching onto a black dog. Blood stained the man's shirt and he spotted the makeshift tourniquet tightened around the Pit Bull's right forearm.

He knew exactly what to do and relief and instinct flooded over him. He ushered the man towards the shed. _Finally, _he thought _familiar territory._

Daryl asked no questions as he placed the dog on Hershel's table. The dog laid still, its eyes watching the people surrounding him cautiously. Despite the wound, the dogs face remained calm; unfazed by what appeared to be excruciating pain. And even so, not a whimper passed its lips.

Daryl felt a hand on his shoulder and realised Carol had followed him in. He lifted his hand to where hers rested and squeezed it gently.

"It's not life threatening," Hershel approached them slowly. "I am going to have to do a graft though, to close the wound..." Daryl nodded, understanding.

"You mean, animals can't?..." Carol trailed off not sure how to phrase it.

"No," Daryl replied quietly "That crackpot Jenner at the CDC heard tell that only humans could become geeks" he tried to remember the scientist's words "somethin about our brains bein diff'rent"

"Anyway, I've got to start now before the tissue starts dying around the wound..." Hershel looked at Daryl before adding "I may need you to hold him down, if the pain gets too much... I'll give him some sedatives but I won't be able to put him under... It's too risky without intubation..."

Daryl nodded before stepping towards the table and placing his hand on the dog's side. Its breath came out in heaving bursts but when he looked into those eyes the fight reflected in their amber pools erased all doubt. He would make it through, now it was Daryl's chance to save him. _I owe it to 'im._

Carol had left the shed as they prepared for surgery. But not before she pulled the collar from her pocket placing it around the dog's neck.

"Norman?" Daryl stared at the name imbedded in the tan leather "The hell kinda name is that?" Carol thought for a moment before a slow smile spread over her lips.

"A strong one" With one last stroke to the dogs head, she turned on her heel.

She had tried to stay to lend a hand but when it became clear that she would be in the way she left them to their work. _Hershel, Patricia and Daryl had it covered_. She made her way towards Daryl's tent

oooo

As she passed the Grime's tent Lori looked up at her, Carl clutched to her side. Carol noticed the mix of relief and exhaustion on the woman's face. _She almost lost her life today, and her son's. _Guilt ebbed at her, not the kind of guilt where you wish you could have taken their place to shield them from having to have had the experience, but heavy guilt nonetheless.

She felt sorry that she had given the woman such a wide berth, she felt bad that she had subconsciously put distance between their friendship. After the day at the barn she couldn't help but feel longing towards the mother and son, she would never again hold Sophia's hand, or comfort her on a bad day. The realisations just hurt too much.

Now, seeing Lori clutching her child—hands cradling his face like he was her whole world; she realised that is exactly what Carl was to Lori, and what Sophia was to her. _Still is... my whole world._

It was then that she went to Lori, sitting at her side and placing a supportive arm around her waist. The strong face she was keeping for her son began to crumble at the gesture and with a quiet sob her face crumpled into tears.

Carol soothed the tears out of her and when Carl looked up at his mum worriedly, the older woman just gave him a comforting smile. Carl took this as a sign to give the women a moment. His voice was gentle and quiet when he asked to go and sit by Dale. Lori's whole being was reluctant at letting her son part from her side but after a moment she pulled him to her chest, placing a kiss on his head before releasing him. They watched until he stood next to Dale and the older man gave them an understanding nod.

"I thought I was going to lose him today..." Lori finally spoke, her voice meek with tears "and then when I got attacked... "She trailed off "I don't think I could ever be without him." Lori froze as soon as the words left her mouth. "Carol, I'm so sorry..."

"Why?" Carol cut off the pity party "losing Sophia was horrible, and I suffered greatly but for whatever reason, it happened... "As Carol spoke she felt a weight being lifted. She placed her hand on Lori's downturned cheek and raised it, staring into Lori's brown orbs "I would never want to see you go through that." With that said they embraced. Hugging each other for an extended moment until Lori remembered...

"The dog..." She looked at Carol and then towards the woods "He saved us... where is he?" Carol turned towards the shed and Lori followed her glance. "Will it be okay?"

"Hershel says that he should be fine." She remembered the brave look in _Norman's _eyes and for her own sake, repeated herself "He'll be just fine"

**** Okay, I know, I'm a bad author should have updated two days ago but I got sick. Literally feel like I've been bit by a walker right now... Dizzy as hell and feverish... but unlike Jim I will go on! *sips Arizona green tea* **

**Ps: If I turn into a stumbling flesh hungry geek please don't lock me in a barn... **

**Ps x2: Thanks for all the reviews! This fic will probably wrap up soon (12 chapters... maybe 15)**


	11. Just Fine

***** Authors note: So... of course I write a story about somebody breaking ribs then fate jumps right in, in the form of an EPIC face-plant (seriously... the kind that you wish were recorded so you could at least painfully laugh at your own injury) no time to put my hands out so 4 broken ribs and a bruised nose and I finally will be updating! Considering I have 4-6 weeks to heal... :( **

**P.S: not excusing my lack of updates (I suck) but I thought I'd share my ironic injury story: D If it didn't hurt like a "Lori", I'd be laughing along with you. **

**Also! NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE SEXUALITY IN IT! If that makes you uncomfortable OR you are under age: SKIP TO CHAPER 13! (it will still make sense)**

The sun had begun to set when Daryl and Hershel finally exited the shed. They bore exhausted expressions as they made their way across the lawn and towards the porch. Carol and Lori sat at a table staring out at the fields; two mugs filled with tea sat, untouched at their side. Maggie and Beth noticed the men first from their resting place on the steps.

Carol stood, striding nervously to meet Daryl and the Vet part way. Daryl's face was unreadable at first and for a split second she felt the tendrils of fear tightening around her heart. She fumbled over words in her head and her eyes betrayed her panic.

"Is he okay?" Carol jumped at the voice and turned to see Carl—hands fiddling with the sheriff's hat in his hands. She locked eyes with Daryl and noticed a reassuring smile grace his lips just moments before Hershel finally spoke.

"The procedure was a success," she let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding and she could hear Lori whisper a _'thank goodness.' _"We will have to monitor him though; he must stay rested in order for him to heal..." as Hershel continued to explain, Carol's focus drifted to the man to his left.

The slight smile on Daryl's lips faltered for a moment when he met Carol's glance. Instead his eyes held something more than relief. Beyond the relief, they held longing. His eyes remained guarded but he allowed another reassuring smile to tug at the corners of his lips. She returned the favor.

In that moment what she saw in his eyes sent a very real shiver up her spine. Without speaking Daryl gestured towards his tent. Her head bowed in a subtle nod and she glanced around at all the others, still listening to Hershel.

She fell in step with Daryl and they quietly made their way towards his tent. As they walked past the shed she caught a glance of Norman. He lay still as Patricia gently wrapped a thick layer of gauze around his leg covering the angry red stitches. She slowed to a stop just past the door. Relief mixed with pity for the injured dog, and she drew in a breath.

She felt the man go still beside her and then the warmth of his breath as he turned to face her. In her peripheral vision she could see his grey-green eyes trace the planes of her face as he studied her expression.

"He's gonna be jus' fine" Daryl's voice was soft, offset somewhat by his rough southern drawl. She nodded once again subconsciously, her eyes still trained on the doors of the shed. She could no longer see inside but she couldn't seem to look away. "Carol..."

The sound of her name being called drew her back and she slowly looked to the man standing ahead of her. His eyes held a tenderness she had never seen focused on her before. She had seen the look many time, it graced Rick's face each time he saw Lori. Ed had never looked at her like that, hell, nobody had.

She felt his hand brush hers and as she was broken out of her trance.

She met his concerned glance with one of longing as she slipped her hand into his and their fingers entwined. She welcomed the fluttering in her ribcage and yet another smile stretched her lips.

"C'mon then..." Daryl's voice was barely a murmur but she felt it in her bones making her knees weak and she tightened her hold on his hand. With one last glance at the shed—and with Daryl at her side—Carol eagerly continued towards his tent.


	12. As One warning:sexuality

********This chapter has sexuality (Chapter Rated M)****, be warned! If you are uncomfortable with that or are under age SKIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER! It will still make sense without this chapter! **

**Double post today because I feel bad about being late updating... enjoys!**

They were silent as they passed through the door flap. Daryl's hand dropped hers as he stooped to zip the tent flap back into place. His heart hammered in his ears as his mind raced. _Was this really happening? Sure, he had thought about it but..._

"Daryl?" Carol's voice was a soft reminder that he still crouched on the floor. He got to his feet and turned slowly. What he saw stilled him momentarily.

Carol lay on his cot. Her tongue darted out swiftly to wet her lips and Daryl couldn't look away. He was mesmerized by the woman; light playing over her face and neck, one arm braced behind her, the other tracing the contours of her collarbone. He felt his breathing becoming shallower.

Carol's confidence slowly started to dwindle and she bit her lip self-consciously her eyes averted and she felt a blush begin to creep across her skin. "Daryl... I..."

"You're beautiful..." they were both taken aback by the words. Daryl had never said that to anyone before, but as soon as the words left his mouth he realised that he truly meant them. Carol's eyes shifted to the man still standing awkwardly at the edge of the tent. The muscles in his arms tense.

Daryl heard clothing rustle and felt her hand on his shoulder. Her mouth pressed to his before he had the chance to look up. Her lips were warm and when his tongue darted across them she parted them slightly.

His breath mixed with hers and the effect was dizzying. She smelled like sweet grass, and flowers, and as his tongue danced across hers, he could taste sweetness like honey on her lips.

His kisses were soft, and his hands were steady, cupping her face as the other rested above her hip tracing light circles on the sensitive skin with his thumb. She followed his lead running her fingers through his hair, his breath ghosted across her neck and she felt goose bumps rise on her arms.

"Carol...we don' have ta..." Daryl pulled away, his eyes searching hers for a sign to stop, the slightest hesitation. But there was none. She stared at him steadfast and with need in her eyes. _I don't deserve her, I don't deserve this. She should be with a man of honour, not some redneck trash like me. _

Thoughts warred in his mind, thousands of reasons to stop, to leave, to pull away further; Thousands of reasons to be exiled.

She could see the internal conflict playing out behind his eyes and it stung her deeply. Even now, he didn't realise just how much he meant to her. Her hand found his cheek. _This man, she loved him._

"Daryl, I want this..." he drew a shaky breath and with a newfound confidence she placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pulling away a fraction of an inch she whispered once more "I want you."

A groan left his lips and he needed no more convincing. She was pressed to his chest and he ran his fingers down her spine finding the hem of her shirt. Her head nodded in permission against his neck where she laid a trail of kisses teeth lightly scraping against his pulse point.

Her shirt was slowly lifted and she let out a soft moan as his knuckles brushed over the exposed skin of her ribs. Daryl took a step back his eyes cherishing her nude form, she wore no bra and her breasts rose and fell with each shaky breath. Goosebumps rose on her freckled skin and he stepped forward bending to kiss at the soft skin of her neck.

Her hands frantically pulled at the buttons on his shirt craving human heat. He kissed her again his hands stilling hers as he undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt. She watched under hooded lids as a crescent of skin was revealed as he pulled the buttons from their holes. She moved her hands to his chest her fingers sliding across his pecks and pushing the material away revealing more skin.

A sharp intake of breath made her eyes shoot back to his face noticing a slight wince. Only then did she remember his ribs and she felt a twinge of guilt her hands falling lighter on his skin. He just kissed her once more pulling at her lips and slanting his mouth for better access.

Before she knew it she felt the back of her knees knock into the makeshift bed and Daryl gently lowered her onto it. His hands brushed against her hips and he remained standing, lips still attached to hers. The need to feel his skin against hers won over and she gently pulled him to lie on top of her, the muscles in his arms holding his weight.

His lips left hers trailing once more down her body; tongue tasting the skin of her neck and swiping into the dip of her collarbones. The sensation arched Carol's back and her hands found hold on the strong back of the man above her. His breath was hot and hard against her skin as he took a nipple into his mouth, touching the sensitive skin gently, his hands continuing south in soft caresses.

Carol found herself helpless in the throes of bliss. She couldn't remember the last time she felt her body being cherished like this. Her nails dug into the hunter's back and her teeth bit at her lips. Breathy moans fought against her better judgement until they finally won out as his hands found the button of her jeans.

Daryl still couldn't quite explain his feelings but he couldn't pull away. It was as if tiny threads held them together. His lips left her skin while his hands deftly unbuttoned her pants. He cursed his shaky hands as he fumbled with her zipper gently pushing the garment from her hips revealing a delicate pair of lace panties. His breath caught in his throat and an almost animalistic groan. He felt her hands leave his shoulders and looked up to see her watching him under hooded eyes.

"Daryl..." her moaning his name was almost too much to handle he slid his hands up between her thighs and his lips moved back to hers again as her hips brushed his. He felt his need tightening his pants and the constriction was starting to become uncomfortable. He quickly shed his pants and their bodies slid against one another, his knee parting her thighs and his hardness brushing against her hip causing them both to involuntary shudder.

With deft fingers they rid themselves of the final barrier of their underwear. Her delicate panties were first sliding down her legs and falling to the floor along with his threadbare briefs. Now they lay fully naked. Catching their breaths and taking in each other's bodies. Their breath heaved in syncopation; chests brushing and hips knocking.

Their eyes met and Carol answered the question in his eyes with the slightest of nods. He lowered his face and the words that left his lips were almost unheard.

"_Carol, I love you" _

Her breath hitched as he entered her holding strong and still above her his mouth finally making contact with hers as they were joined. Limbs clutched desperately and hands groped for anything to steady the movements.

They moved as one, rocking and arching into the others embrace. Carol could feel the warmth filling her gut and her fingers raked through his hair. Daryl felt her tighten and he knew she was close. His hands moved to her back; his mouth leaving hers to pant her name against the column of her neck.

Her mouth free let out moans that—if she wasn't consumed in complete ecstasy—would have made her blush and fear being overheard. But the metronome of their heartbeats and the friction of their bodies was enough to shut off the part of her mind _that gave two fucks about what others thought._

Daryl could feel his climax beginning in his gut and with the clenching walls around him he knew the woman below him was dancing on the edge as well. With a few more thrusts they were tumbling over the edge.

Both figuratively, and literally, the cot overturned just as they climaxed, sending them hurtling onto the floor in a pile of shaking limbs and sweating bodies. As the tingling in their bodies died down, Carol laid her head on Daryl's chest. Suddenly she was overcome with laughter.

The laughs rolled from her lips, echoing around the small tent and soon Daryl found his chuckles joining in. This continued for a while until Carol leaned in for a kiss. He returned the favor and couldn't help but smile. _So this is what he was missin', he wouldn't trade it fer the world. _A knowing smile broke across the woman's face as she pulled away from his lips.

"I guess we really did fall for each other then..." She was answered with another chuckle and one last kiss before Daryl pulled a blanket from the overturned bed and draped it over them pulling Carol closer.

"And Daryl?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I love you too..."

**** Haha so I hope you enjoyed that! I definitely enjoyed writing it! I tried to keep it vague enough so that it still might be classed as "T" but if it is too racy I will change the rating of the story. Thanks for all the reviews! I love you guys :) **


	13. Shades

They remained lying on the floor of the tent, a blanket draped over their spent bodies. Carol's head was still resting on his shoulder and the slow rise and fall of the man's chest gave her an odd sense of comfort. Daryl had wrapped his arm around the small woman's waist and his fingers stroked at the silk-like skin of her side gently.

Carol let out a contented sigh and Daryl couldn't help but smile like a fool. _A damn lucky fool at that... _He shifted onto one elbow, his body tensing slightly as he looked down at the woman cradled in his arms. She tightened her hold on him slightly before looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

"That was..." he trailed off trying to find a better phrase than '_fucking incredible woman' _his thoughts were still fuzzy from their actions and exhaustion was slowly creeping through his body. He could feel his thoughts flying away like some loose parakeet and he shook his head.

Carol watched him trying to excavate the right thing to say from his exhausted mind. His eyes were trained on nothing in particular and when he shook his head like a _damn etch 'a' sketch_ a smile tickled her lips.

"Daryl..." he had moved on from digging to mentally berating himself and when she spoke his name it took a moment for him to register. He met her oddly smug smile and she grinned even wider "that was fucking incredible."

His mouth must have fallen open slightly at the shock of Carol—sweet, beautiful, little Carol, who he had never heard utter any expletive more severe than 'hell' in the entire time he'd known her—repeating the exact phrase he had been trying in futility to replace. Her laughter filled the tent once more and he glanced down grinning before he pushed at her shoulder playfully.

"Guess 'm rubbin' off on ye then..." Carol shrugged, her shoulder accidentally brushing once of Daryl's ribs. He winced. Before she could mention it however, he shifted so he was leaning above her.

"Before you know it, I'll be wearing torn off shirts and _huntin' squirrel_"She did her best Daryl Dixon impersonation—which sounded somewhat convincingly... like Elmer Fudd—making it exceedingly hard for Daryl to keep a straight face as he placed a chaste kiss on her lips before simply replying...

"No, fucking way." She sighed, getting ready to refute, half-jokingly, when the sound of boots approaching drew their attention towards the door.

"Hey, Daryl?" their leader's voice broke them into reality and Carol looked around desperately for her shirt as Daryl pulled his pants back over his hips. He looked towards the door before answering.

"Yeah? Just a second" Carol finally spotted her shirt laying on the other side of the overturned cot reaching for it as Daryl tried to buy some more time. "Ya need somethin' Rick?"

"I was just wonderin' if you knew where Carol went?" at the sound of her name being spoken she looked at Daryl with wide eyes. She felt like a teenager getting caught with her pants down... _actually quite literally, she hadn't found them yet... _Daryl shrugged a tank over his shoulders and his voice almost broke with laughter as he attempted a lie. _He had never been any good at it._

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen her..." he placed a finger to his lips; not only lightly shushing Carol, who, too was trying not to burst into laughter again, but also to steady himself.

"In that case..." He saw Rick's shadow getting larger on tent and froze. He heard the zipper pull on the door flap and he stepped forward, hoping to step out of the door before Rick had the chance to look in. Carol finally found her pants and slid them on swiftly.

Daryl got to the door just as the canvas was pulled aside, but it wasn't fast enough judging by the immediate aversion of eyes and the muttered "Shit! Sorry"

Their blushes varied in shade, Rick, a light rosy shade, Carol, a scarlet and Daryl...well, his cheeks were more akin to the red of a vine ripened tomato. Their eyes avoided each other until eventually curiosity got to each of them, only to be downcast once more as they made instantaneous contact with the others. _Fuck, kill me now..._

"Um, Hershel wanted to talk to you about maybe keeping the dog in a crate in the tent with you..." Rick managed to find his words but his eyes still refused to budge. Instead his eyes remained painfully averted watching the squirrel skins waving on a line, like morbid little flags. "He's in the shed if you want to speak with him..." Rick trailed off looking quickly at Daryl then longingly towards his own tent.

"Thanks, I'll talk with 'im now" Rick nodded and looked to Carol once more, the blush creeping back into his cheeks.

"Lori was lookin' for you..." Carol sighed, nodding "Should I... uh tell her you're here?"

"No, Thank-you, I'll just go find her," Rick nodded to them both politely before hurriedly turning heel back towards camp. Carol slipped on her shoes before walking towards the Grimes' tent where she was sure she would find Lori, sitting with Carl.

As she passed Daryl she offered him a soft smile and under her breath—and barely audible—she whispered.

"Later?" Daryl grasped her hand placing a somewhat forceful kiss on her lips. He released her moments later with gentle eyes and a nod.

_This woman,_ Daryl thought as he walked slowly towards the shed, she _is gonna be the death of me..._

**** Don't you love the awkward moment when you try to cover for somebody only to be found out... so embarrassing! Thanks SO much for all the insanely positive feedback thus far! You readers are amazing! Sorry if this one is a little short and lacking everybody's favorite Pitbull... :D you know you love me though... haha. I also learned a valuable lesson today... remember to plug in your laptop well you are writing or else it might suddenly die causing you to lose 2/3rds of your work... yup... suckage :D seems I've learned that lesson before though...**


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